Whispering Stars
by Cuizard the Bump-nose Dragon
Summary: When Rafaela decides regular life isn't for her and runs away, she inadvertently ventures into the "wrong side of the tracks". No one is brave enough to go there, a gang or cult of some sort lurks there, making it their territory. However, what Rafaela finds is... RedClan. Now she must decide if her future lies with them, or if she made the right choice.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I had help with the names. Names were donated by GimmerIcewood, xFallenskyx, Wolfgrowl, xXSilvershadeXx, ****XxSmallstepxX, Halliova, and Coalstorm of WindClan. Also, the story takes place in the real world and would be as if they were humans. The gangs are what the Outsiders (People outside the clans) call the two Clans. The clan names are normal until you get to the kits and apprentices. The apprentices have -path instead of -paw, and the kits have -tot instead of -kit.  
**

**Please, review and enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Light faded as the rain continued to pour. A young teen stood at the foot of a strange dark building. Her eyes blankly stared off into the distance. Memories flashed through her eyes, but none were recognizable. She sighed. Nothing could be heard except the faint patter-patter of raindrops splattering against the cold ground.

A sharp squeal rang as the large doors of the uncanny building creaked open. The girl jolted. A frail woman poked her head out the door. Her soft blue eyes glanced at the young teen. Her jaw locked at a gaping potion. The girl was shaken with multiple scars stretching across her lean body. Bruises could be seen splotched on her eye and cheeks.

"Rafaela!" the woman praised. Her arms embraced the soaking teen. "We heard about the crash. We thought you were dead!" she spoke as tears flooded her eyes.

The woman wept some more, her head pressing against the teenage girl's shoulders. When she finally finished, she wiped the tears from her eyes. "How did you escape? Never mind that, you're back!" the teen just stared at the woman. "Come, come on in. You must be freezing.

The girl nodded as the woman motioned her inside. She followed the woman through a retro-styled room. The wooden floors creaked beneath their feet. Security cameras were focused on the wooden door where they entered through. The woman past a front desk and swiped a clipboard that was set on the top counter.

"Why are you escorting me to my room?" Rafaela asked. "I'm pretty sure I can find it myself."

"When you ran away, the manager made it clear that once you were found and brought back, you would be escorted back to your room and that no other would try to escape."

The teen gritted her teeth and forced her cheek muscles to relax. They finally made it to her room. The woman placed a plastic card in her hands and stood behind the teen. Rafaela took the key card and swiped it down the key card lock. There was a light click and she entered her room. The woman made some scribbles on her clipboard and strolled away. The girl growled and shut the door.

She stood in her room in the dead silence. Nothing made a sound except for the howling of the wind from the outside. She shivered.

Frost glazed over the musty, old window. Its panes iced over with white powdery snow. A single eye appeared through the foggy glass. Rafaela stood motionless with fingers pressed on the smooth sanded frame. She peered beyond the uncanny eye and deep into her soul. She breathed a sigh which had cleared most of the fog.

There wasn't really much to see. Shadows of the neighboring buildings were covering most views of the alley ways. Cylinder trash cans stood up right from the street lamp's luminous light. The girl placed a hand on the frigged glass. Hairs spiked their way up her arm. She yanked her arm back.

She whirled around and plodded over to her right. She sat on her cot, a large green matt lain on a box-like surface. Ragged blankets were folded neatly on the end of the cot. A night stand sat to the left of her bedside, next to her pillow. She flicked on the lamp and gazed at the strange figure resting on top of a tattered book.

The figure was made of stone and had detailed markings. She snatched the figure up and began to study it more immensely. This wasn't here before, she thought. It must have been one of the janitor's. They always leave things here. She sighed. It did look good, for a handcrafted sculpture of a serpent, that is. Two tiny holes were drilled into the dragon's head, each about a millimeter wide. A strong, but thin string was strung onto the figure making it appear to be more of a special sort of amulet-like necklace. She slipped it on and had let it dangle from her neck.

Rafaela stood up and briskly made her way out of her room. Anger faded out of her mind as she made her way down the long, cream colored hallway. Her mind began to surge as she set foot in the restroom. Hardly anyone came into the restroom at this time of night. Lights flickered on and the room began to buzz and awaken from a long rest. The girl strolled to the line of sinks, to the south of the door. Her eyes rolled up to the security camera, pointed towards the restroom's main entrance and exit.

Slowly, she made her way to the center of the chilly room. She tapped her foot on various tiles until she found the lose one. She knelt down and opened up the compartment. Carefully, she scooped up the army knife. Its long blade glinted under the restroom lights. The handle was made of a soft black leather. She shoved her hand, along with the knife in her pockets. She stood back up and shoved the tile with her foot back into its place where it covered the compartment once more.

She glanced at the security camera once again. No one can stop me this time, she thought. She sauntered back down the creamy hallway and turned to the door that was the one that had the door mat that said "Welcome" on it. She swiped her card and returned to her room.

The air was still as chilly as it was when she left. She snagged the knife from her pocket and plodded over to a full-body mirror. She clutched her long black hair in a ponytail position with her left hand and raised her knife in the other. Her face was pale from the cold. She made a swift upper cut and the hair was sliced in the same instant. She let go and locks of black hair fell gracefully to the ground. By the end of her self-produced haircut, her hair was cut into a shaggy hairstyle worn by most guys in her building.

Compared to most guys in her building, she was the most innovating of them all. Her jeans were held around her hips by a plain, old, tan, lose fitted belt. Rips and tears could be seen at the leggings of her jeans. Mostly it was from the countless times that she stepped on them whenever she walked. She had a soft black jacket was unzipped which revealed her black t-shirt with faint outlines of a dragon breathing fire. Thick white lines outlined the dragon's head, body, and claws, while red, yellow, and orange lines swept across the shirt in what seemed to be flames. Green circles directed where the piercing eyes would be. She seemed to never get out of wearing it every day at least once. Every once in a while, she would be sent back into her room to change out of it because she had already had worn it once. Her shoes were beaten down from the myriad times of walking, running, and the occasional times of tripping.

She held her new dragon, which dangled from a string, in her hand. A strange presence swept her mind as thoughts emerged once more. It was as if her mind was blocking something very crucial. Intel that may indicate what was going on. She shook the thought from her head and turned to the window. She uttered some soft words underneath her breath and then plodded to the window.

Breathing a breath of calm air, she held up her hand. She placed it on the frosted glass. A chill was sent up her spine. She gritted her teeth and forced her arms into the window. At first the glass was thick and her arms slid. She fell forward, cheek pressing against the frigid glass. She pulled her body back and dove at the frosted aperture. The ice cracked and the panes split open. A gush of snowy wind swooped into the room. She clinched her teeth harder as she set foot on the edge of the window. There was a small four foot drop which continued to the ally way.

A raucous alarm blared. She became wide-eyed and quickly scrambled out the window and took off sprinting. Her heart raced as she lunged herself at a wire fence and screeched around a corner. Come on, Come on. A voice whispered. She ducked behind a wall and pressed her back against it. She breathed heavily. She glanced back around the corner. Lights lit up throughout the entire building. Shadows of tall figures moved swiftly about and through her room. A head popped out her window and peered around. Soon, the head returned in doors. The shadows left the room and soon the lights blacked out. Rafaela sighed as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.

She left the corner and ran to the end of the alley. Tall buildings surrounded the streets around her. She ducked out of the glare of streetlights. A sharp sting gripped her right hand. Without a thought, she clutched it tightly in her left. Blood covered her hands as the pain increased.

Come on... She thought to herself. I have got to get out of here.

"Hey, Rafaela!" a male voice shouted from the balcony of one of the tall buildings. "What are you doing around here at this time of night?"

"Can I come in?" the black-hared girl shouted.

"Sure thing, Romeo," the slender, creamy blonde-haired guy replied. "Let me just let down my hair."

"Quit joking around," Rafaela grunted. "And just open the front door, Rupunzel."

"OK, OK," The guy disappeared. A few moments later, the same guy appeared at the front door. "What do you..." His voice was cut off when Rafaela blew past him. "Uh... Come on in... it's not like my parents aren't home or anything. But..." His eyes widened. "Is your hand bleeding?"

"Congratulations, Ian," Rafaela muttered. "You actually paid attention to details and not your graphing calculator."

"Haha, very funny," he said as he slid his bulky glasses farther up on his nose.

"Oye, Ian, who's at the..." another male voice sounded. "Woah... Uhh... Hi... We heard about the incident. We thought you finally had done it."

Rafaela glanced up the stairs and peered at a tall guy wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. The guy blushed as he glanced at the girl. "Hey, Ace," she giggled. "I didn't know you were that sexy."

Ace, a tan male with short, messy brown with black streaks in it, and light, honey-colored brown eyes, growled. "Ian," he roared. "You idiot! Why did you let her in here?"

"I didn't, Ace," Ian retorted. "And why are you practically naked? Especially in front of a girl!"

"It wasn't my fault that I didn't know you let a girl into the house." Ace grumbled.

"Go put some clothes on!"

"I was just about to do that," Ace uttered under his breath. He disappeared.

Rafaela winced some more.

"Are you OK?" Ian questioned.

"I'm... fine..." the girl grunted through gritted teeth.

"Come here," the seventeen-year-old motioned to the girl. She followed and they went deeper into Ian's home. The walls were from floor to celling with myriad pictures hanging on the walls. Each photo was practically the same as the next with the commonalities being Ian holding a gold medal or trophy.

"Why's Ace here?" Rafaela asked as they kept walking. They appeared in the dining room and kitchen combination. The only thing that separated the two rooms was the countertop that hooked around in a half oval shape. In front of them was a fairly small table, probably big enough to seat four or five bodies. The girl sat at the far end of the rectangular table, her back to the porch window. In front of her was a laptop resting next to a few textbooks. A gray graphing calculator was sitting open on top of one of the books, closest to the closed laptop. Ian stood, leaning against the refrigerator.

"It's," he paused trying to find the words to say. "Complicated."

"What's so complicated about explaining why you're harboring a criminal in your home?" Rafaela retorted.

"Still as hot-headed as usual, I see," Ian sighed as he glanced down at his brown loafers. "He's not just a criminal, you know."

"Yeah, so?" Rafaela slammed her fists down onto the table. The table shook violently.

"He's my brother." The tall boy argued.

"Yeah, a brother that ran away." Rafaela scolded.

"So? You tried to run away too." Ian countered.

"You think I don't know that?" the girl roared.

"No, it's just..." his words were left hanging.

"Ian, just shut up and let the girl do her thing. There's no reason to start an argument." Ace commanded as he strolled in. Rafaela smiled as the shaggy-haired boy had appeared in actual clothes. He whore black jeans, a black t-shirt with a picture of a skull on it, and black black shoes. "What happened to your arm, Rafeala?"

"It's nothing," she muttered.

"It seems a little more than nothing." Ace attempted to get a closer look. "The scar seems quite deep for nothing."

Ian gasped, "You're trying to run away again, aren't you?"

Ace crept back slowly., making barely any sounds.

"Yes, and hopefully get out of this Hell-hole once and for all."

"Where, you gonna go?" Ace asked. "It isn't safe out there."

"And where's your right to say that? You ran away too." She growled.

"Well, I didn't go in the direction of where you're going." The brown haired boy sneered.

"Of course," the black haired girl said through a creepy grin. "You're all just a couple of wimps."

"What did you just call me?" Ace growled. His eyes flashed as he flung out his arms on either side. "I mean I can understand why called that big idiot a wimp, but why me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She sneered. "It's because you are."

"Ugh! Ian," Ace hissed. "Finish cleaning her wounds up and then let her go on her way." The boy stormed off, muttering curse words beneath his breath.

Ian leaned in and carefully wrapped some gauze around the girl's arm. Moments after he finished he stupid back up and leaded against the refrigerator door once more. He sighed. "Well, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Rafaela breathed as she pressed her fingers against the gauze. "Live off the land, I guess."

"Look, I'm sorry for what my brother did to you."

"No, it's OK," she said sweetly." I have to go anyways."

"Well," Ian sighed once more. "I guess this is goodbye."

"Yes, this is." The black haired girl replied as she stood up. The blonde haired boy stepped in front of her right as she was about to leave.

"Will I ever see you again?" He asked. He forced his crusty lips from quivering.

"I don't know, man," she responded in an awkwardly manner.

"Well, God bless."

"Yeah," Rafaela sighed. "See ya."

With that, she quickly flung her hand up. Ian took a pace back and watched the tomboy slowly plod to the front door. He snuffled and his eyes filled with water as his friend left the apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I had help with the names. Names were donated by GimmerIcewood, xFallenskyx, Wolfgrowl, xXSilvershadeXx, ****XxSmallstepxX, Halliova, and Coalstorm of WindClan. Also, the story takes place in the real world and would be as if they were humans. The gangs are what the Outsiders (People outside the clans) call the two Clans. The clan names are normal until you get to the kits and apprentices. The apprentices have -path instead of -paw, and the kits have -tot instead of -kit.  
**

**Please, review and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Twirling her knife, Rafaela pressed her back against the wall. Her left hand clung onto the hard, rough, bricks behind her. Her chest heaved from the long sprint from the Ivanov's apartment. The brick building was still in her view, across the street and down the road about ten blocks or so. Rain flooded down as sighed. The light in the Ivanov's window could be seen illuminating in the darkest of night.

The light extinguished in front of her very eyes. The girl tossed her head to the side and peered around the corner. Nothing was in sight, except for the large metal dumpster. She crept ever so slightly to the dark rectangular dumpster. She brought to an abrupt halt. She cupped her single free hand over her mouth and nose. She turned away and rushed to her right. Garbage sacks were piled underneath a fire escape. She felt her stomach churning. Liquid rushed up her esophagus. Her cheeks bulged. She held her ground, along with her left hand clutching onto the lowest rung of the fire escape as support.

She craned her neck back and forced a harsh gulp. The vomit slid back down her throat as she gasped for a breath. Rafaela plodded back to the corner that she had come from. Her lungs expanded as she breathed a sigh. She glanced back at the dumpster. She placed her free hand over her mouth and nose and began to slink over to the dumpster once more. The pungent smell slipped through the cracks of her fingers, but the stench only stung her nose. It wasn't as bad as before.

She flipped her knife around and used the hard leather handle to cut through the crack and yank the lid up, sort of like a crowbar. She popped her elbow inside when the gap was wide enough. She had caught the lid just in time before it slammed back shut. Rafaela nudged her elbow farther in and the lid slid up her arm and onto her shoulder. Pain surged as the weight had begun to take its toll on her.

While inside the dumpster, Rafaela flipped her knife around once more and began to dig through the heaps of garbage. She stabbed something soft and jerked back into the light. Ugh, someone's leftover meatloaf. She took a whiff of it. Yep, definitely inedible, she thought. She tossed it back into the heap and continued her search.

About five minutes had passed. The only thing she could scrap up, were half eaten chicken drumsticks, half way decent nachos, and a slice of anchovy pizza that looked as if it had been there for weeks on end. She sighed as she bit into the chicken.

Thunder rumbled. The raucous sound shook the tin cans and forced Rafaela to pause. The rain came at a downpour. Lightning flashed. The streetlights flickered off. There was nothing but still silence as the sounds of rain splashing onto the ground. The girl dropped the half eaten food. She grasped the first rung of the fire escape. Forcing her limp arms to withstand her weight, she struggled to climb the ladder. Even with all her might, she slipped and had scraped her hands a few times from the rough surface of the walls or whatever she found herself grasping onto.

Long shadows lingered over her as she had finally pulled herself up and off of the ladder and onto the fire escape itself. A blaze of light flashed and moments later a loud crack and a boom exploded from above. She shook the vapors from her head and continued ascending the stairs.

A bolt of lightning jetted out from a cloud as she clambered onto the roof. It struck a building about a mile away to her right. The black, shaggy-haired girl sprinted on the roof, staggering to a halt as a large gap split the two buildings. She eye-balled a clothesline below and leaped off the tall building. She grasped the wire and was yanked downward from the remaining gravity that had finally held a grip on her.

Slowly she scooted her hands along the long wire and reached over any hanging clothes on the line. Rafaela finally reached the other end where the ending was tied to the fire escape exit stairs. She climbed some more and reached the roof once more. Her head tilted back as she felt something strange. It wasn't the usual: it's stormy and will be stormy all night sort of weather. The rumble of thunder echoed out of earshot and the roar began to cease to a halt. Her vivid green eyes stared at the uncanny sight. To think that it would just be another blanket of black clouds is one thing, but it's a another thing when in reality the clouds unveil a black sky, dotted by infinite stars gleaming from the heavans. The moon shown, not quite at its fullest, but it was almost there. Just a sliver more to go.

The rain died away into the distance and there was silence. A warm silence welcomed the plants and animals below. The night sky fasted its magical powers on Rafaela. Her face began to droop as she waited a split second before fixsating her eyes over the ledge. The buildings stretched for miles on end and vanished in the black horizon. She shuffled where way to the edge of the roof. She climbed more rooftops as she made her way in an uncertain direction.

Streets below blew by as she had quickened her pace. She spotted a railing that led to another emergency exit ladder. She hastily made her way down. Shadows began to separate as she came closer to ground level. A dumpster stood at the end of another alley way. She tested the air before going any closer. The smell was tainted, but durable. It wasn't as delightful as a new car would smell like, it was more of along the lines of stale chocolate sofa half of a wet dog.

Arrays of bright orange light the sky above her. The purple clouds drifted over the morning air. The black, shaggy-haired girl strained her eyes from collecting too much of the sun's blinding beams. She glanced at the ground as she made her way forth to the dumpster. Rafaela's hands clutched the edge as she hurtled her lean body into the empty unit.

She was welcomed by an array of lightly pungent smells of what seemed to be dead fish. The floor was wet from the rain. She closed one side of the double, plastic-lidded dumpster lid. Laying down, she fought the uncomfortable pain of laying in a small puddle inside a metal bin. Tiny scratches clawed the metal sides. The walls of the bin made them echo into a squeal like finger nails running down a chalkboard in short, quick periods.

She tossed and turned before her squirrel-like mind finally settled to rest. Sleep took over her body as she had lain still for what only seemed like mere seconds. Energy flowed throughout her body. She breathed the calm, stale air and was renowned.

* * *

Cold air washed over Rafaela's sheltered home. A brusque thump raddled the large, metal container. Goggles of a mellow voice echoed though the walls of the dumpster.

"Hoey, Ruffaeyla. Har oo awayke en dere?"

The black-haired body groaned as her eyes fluttered open.

Shadows elongated over her as the street light outlined the figure overhead. The figure's eyes glistened.

"Hey, Rafaela," the voice repeated. "You're awake! It's about time."

"Ace," the girl griped. "Ow—" She reached her arm to her thigh and began to rub the soreness away. Her hand slid farther back. A shoe lay on it's side, next to her. She snatched it up and flung her arm up letting the shoe dangle by it's shoelaces, above her head. "—I found your shoe."

The figure reached in and grabbed the tennis shoes from her grasp. Rafaela's hand collapsed back to her side. The raven-haired girl sat up torpidly as the shadows eluded enough to unveil the figure's apparel like a cloth being pulled off a masterpiece. Ace smiled and reached down and scooped his hands underneath the girl's armpits. With his apparent muscular arms he slowly lifted her out of the bin. Her face shown a mixture of surprise and gratitude as if he had actually done something right for once. He set her on the ground lightly.

"Thanks," she grumbled under her breath.

"No problem."

"I thought that you didn't want to have anything to do with this side of town." Rafaela said. "What are you doing here?"

"I — uh — got an offer and thought that you would be interested," he replied.

Rafaela flipped her hand up. "Not interested." She turned towards the Alley's exit. She was about to leave when a group of thug-like figures appeared.

"Heh," the teen grunted."It wasn't a choice."

Rafaela whirled around to the so-called Ace figure like a figure skater, but not on ice. She faced the young man. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Feisty one aren't you?" the young man laughed. "Boys—" a. thug stalked forward. Two kids, both were about 9 or 10 -years-old of age, were fidgeting as if they were on fire. The one thug glanced back at the the two kids.

"Oi, Swiftpath," the female thug barked. "Why don't you try out those new moves we learned yesterday?"

The male kid's eyes widened as he heard his mentor called him over. The Ace look-a-like called out to the young female. Rafaela fumbled for her knife. The blade switched open as she had backed herself into a corner.

"Hey!" Another voice yelled; it was low and gravely, unlike all the others that she heard. "What you guys doing on RedClan's territory, Emberfall?"

"RedClan's territory? Pfft! This is BlueClan's territory!" The boy bellowed.

"Come on, get away from the girl!" an older female voice sounded from the opposite side from where the male RedClan voice had came from. "Or do you want us to have a battle, right here, right now."

"Two scrawny RedClan warriors won't be enough to scare us away!" Emberfall sneered, a silver chain glinted in the street light as he leaned in farther.

"Get away from me, you creep!" Rafaela growled. She jammed her foot into the man's solar plexus. The young man fell backward.

"Get her!" he called. The other thugs obeyed his order and prowled towards the girl like multiple panthers stalking their prey, waiting for the right moment.

A dark figure leaped from the shadows of the walls. He landed in front of her with a long dagger at an angle. The luminary light reflected off the metal surface. Both Emberfall and the figure lunged at one another without hesitation like two alpha lions in a duel for territory.

The three other thugs found themselves at in a tassel against some more shaded figures. Rafaela relaxed a bit as the shaded figures drove the three thugs out of the alley. Warm air pressed down her neck like hot smoke.

"Hey, little rascal." A voice hissed her shoulder and into her ear. "What's up?"

The figure kicked Emberfall way and faced the owner of the voice behind the black, shaggy-haired girl. A slight glint caught her attention. The chain connected to a tag swung as the man shot up like a sling-shot. There were multiple clanks and the accessory fell to the girl's lap. With the little light that she had, her eyes could barely make out the smoothly engraved symbols on the piece of metal (黒い牙).

The man appeared in front of the girl. "Are you ok?" he asked as he sheathed his weapon.

"I'm fine," the girl mumbled.

"I'm Blackfang, by the way. What's yours?"

"What's...my...name?" Her whisper was short and spread out.

"Yes," the man replied. "You do know what those are, don't you?"

"I know what a name is, but it's not that. It's just that— Oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand."

"You want to bet?" the man grunted.

The girl didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed upon the dog tags that was pressed beneath her fingers. Thoughts swam through her mind as she sat there like a statue.

"You fought great," the man broke the silence. "It was just like a true RedClan warrior." He paused as his gaze slid down to her hands. "You caught my identification tags."

"Identification tags?" the black-haired girl questioned.

"It states my name, rank and affiliation," Blackfang responded. "I'm a warrior from RedClan."

"RedClan? Don't you mean the Red Dragons?"

The man sighed. "I've been watching you for many days, now. You look suitable for the way of the warrior. Perhaps you might be worth something."

"What do you mean?"

He didn't respond. "That is what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"Well—" the girl began to argue, but quickly changed her mind in mid-thought. "Yeah."

"Well, then it's an answered prayer," he insisted. "Come, on. Join us."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I had help with the names. Names were donated by GimmerIcewood, xFallenskyx, Wolfgrowl, xXSilvershadeXx, XxSmallstepxX, Halliova, and Coalstorm of WindClan. Also, the story takes place in the real world and would be as if they were humans. The gangs are what the Outsiders (People outside the clans) call the two Clans. The clan names are normal until you get to the kits and apprentices. The apprentices have -path instead of -paw, and the kits have -tot instead of -kit.**

**Please, review and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"Where are we going?" The raven-haired girl asked. The two of them had been hiking the streets for what seemed like hours. The ground was hard and cold as ice, although not quite as slick. The night breeze swept through the city like a giant had breathed onto the land. Her hair ruffled. She spat as a few strands had found their way into her mouth. Blackfang turned and chuckled at the sight.

"You still haven't answered my question," she repeated, this time a bit louder than before.

"The Clan camp," he simply replied with a shrug. "Where else?"

There wasn't really anywhere else she could go. Anywhere except for where she was before, that was a given. Rafaela sighed. Her thoughts wandered as the wonder of actually finding a kind Clan member flooded most of her conscious mind. Her eyes drifted from one side of the streets to the other. Dark crested buildings towered over them with darker out linings of what had appeared to be fire exits that gave the enormous structures at least some life, spiraling up the side of one alley. Light marbled stone worked their way up the fine brick walls. Obviously those walls had seen a few years of hardship.

As they entered into another block of mystery, the silence coated the air like a pigment of frost. The large buildings had shrunk some lot of size and magnitude. Patches of moss coated the cracks of broken stone. Slabs of dirt and mortar mounded the toppling structures. General store signs had faded lettering and lost most of their magic touch. The muggy air mingled with the tang smell of sour milk. Blech. Rafaela wrinkled her nose.

"You'll get used to it," Blackfang uttered in a low, gruff tone. Rafaela whipped her head to see him walking along the side of her with slow, long strides. His hands were tucked into his pockets with some sort of relaxed posture. She cautiously eyed him, not really sure of what to expect. His head loomed over her like some sort of half-way deflated helium balloon on a string. "The camp isn't too far from here, so we're almost there."

Almost didn't come close to what really happened. Her definition of almost would mean that they would arrive in a couple of minutes, not a couple of hours. By around that point in time the buildings have appeared to be decayed. Apartments were vandalized with glossy red spray paint which roughly outlined strange characters: 赤クラン. Deeper into the abandoned block, they strolled with the same leisurely stride.

"Where are we?" the girl whispered, deep in awe. The street was blocked off by buildings, forcing any passerby to make an immediate right turn. The buildings had finally reached their maximum abandoned dump look, with all the decaying stones and mortar scraping against the increasing cracks along the sides of some buildings. Rubble was scattered along the streets and piled up a couple feet deep like a vast ocean of broken boards and shattered glass. No person in their right mind would want to live in a deserted home like this. This is where everyone who's at the lowest of the low go. The ones who've hit rock bottom. At least that's what she heard from the authority figures in her life.

Blackfang paused and glanced back at Rafaela, who was now approaching a broken down black street lamp that stood at the far edge of the alley's opening. "Welcome to RedClan, missie."

"You've got to be kidding me," the black-haired girl snorted. "There no way in Hell that anyone could live here. Not a Clan. It's Hooker Alley for Pete's sakes!"

"Believe it, girly," the Blackfang growled. "For a long time, RedClan has made its name known by doing what you call, 'committing crimes' like 'vandalism' and 'petty theft' like little bandits or pirates. But that's what the Outsiders think."

As Blackfang spoke, scores of white eyes with dark pupils appeared from the dark corners of streets. Some were up above in the rafters of large buildings, while others were hovering over the staircases of the emergency exit. No matter where she looked, those uncanny eyes peered at her with great suspicion and distaste.

"Come,"Blackfang insisted in a grumbling tone. Whispers rolled in making the air seem even more unwelcoming than before. Hisses and spats of disproval were ejected from, well, everywere. "We need to speak with the Foxstar."

"Fox star? Band of thieves? Clan? I thought this was just a gang of petty thugs and hookers. And what is a fox star?" Rafaela wanted to just turn around and get out of there, but her body didn't respond. She just kept following the white-haired man. He strolled along farther into the alley, leaving Rafaela struggling to keep up.

"You mean who, little one," a dark woman growled. Her eyes, soon, gazed upon Blackfang. The woman was tall. Tall enough to see eye-to-eye with the old, frail man. She had long skinny legs with dark jeans that were tattered at the knee and hugged her thigh, tightly. A light colored t-shirt could be seen poking out from a weathered hoodie. The lighting didn't really help distinguish any other details other than that she had long black hair that drooped past her shoulders. Most of it was quite choppy and was messy like she hadn't brushed it in many days. "Blackfang, it's good to see you back."

"Hello, Ravenshade," there wasn't really any emotion displayed in his statement. As if there was any emotion to show in this situation. There was an edge to the awkward silence. "I brought the girl, as you can see."

The woman gritted her yellowing teeth. Her lips slowly spread apart, revealing two rows of chipped teeth clamped tightly together. Apparently, she wasn't too happy with having visitors today. Her jaw split, as if she were about to say something, but quickly changed her mind. Hot air hissed between her crested lips and she plodded farther down the alley.

Blackfang snatched Rafaela's right arm and started dragging her in pursuit of the dark female. Deeper and deeper they waded into the alleged camp. Faces loomed over the sides of the building. Wooden planks were angled well enough to make ramps to each story of the apartment building. Some lead onto the rooftops. Pipes wooden poles formed the basic structure of what seemed to be ladders leading onto awnings and tents where two eluded children sat talking to each other. On the other side, another plank leaned against a brick wall, leading to a heavy-duty drain pipe that appeared to be hammered into the side wall. Farther up were empty frames of what used to hold glass doors and windows.

The woman halted at the foot of a giant wire fence, blocking the rest of the alley. Rafaela glanced up at the women, wondering if she knew that this was the end of the line. A small electrical jolt ran down her spine as the young lady grab hold of the fence and started climbing up. Blackfang followed suit. Gracefully, Ravenshade grabbed a hold of the nearest ladder and made her way up the fire escape. Rafaela unwillingly followed the two figure's example and climbed up as well. By the time she had set foot onto the fire escape, Ravenshade had pressed farther, moving up a few flights of stairs. They reached the final story of the building. The woman slipped a few bobby pins from her jacket pocket and fumbled with the lock. Eventually, she let them in.

Inside was just as creepy as the outside. Cold, dark, and hollow were the main points that were insanely obvious. The old entry way to the far right and far left were completely sealed off by shrapnel and wreckage. They had apparently been waiting in an enclosed room full of debris, just like the streets below. There were very few furniture in the room. Only a cot, rickety side table, two lamps: one big and one small, and a desk and wooden chair were what had filled the room.

An older woman sat in the wooden chair, at the other end of the room. Her hair was short and choppy, but was fairly longer than Rafaela's. Ravenshade strolled over to the light switch on wall to the right, opposite of the cot. There was a light click and the two lamps flickered on, revealing the woman's carrot colored hair. Blackfang sat himself on the cot, while Ravenshade leaned against the wall, inches away from the light switch. The room was a dark gray color like ash and charcoal from an immense fire. The older woman scooted her chair back and stood up slow enough for the rest group to witness the smooth transition from sitting to standing in a matter of seconds. She turned to face them. Her eyes were a stunning amber and her face was rather rugged and wrinkly.

"Blackfang," she spoke with such elegance. Her dog tags shimmered in the faint lamp light. "I see you're finally back."

"Yes, ma'am," was his only reply.

"We were worried sick about you. We thought they took you. T'is the reason why most of us are still up. I was just about to orchestrate a search party for you. Where were you?"

"Out," he mumbled. "I was out."

"You'd better give me better than that," the ginger growled. She swiftly flew over to the side of the cot, veering up behind the old man. She leaned in close to his ear, her lips not even touching. "If you think you can just bring in any Outsider off the street and expect them to be welcomed in my Clan, you're dead wrong."

"Okay, fine. I'll admit it. I snuck out and watched the girl-"

"Tell me what I don't know!" the woman interrupted. By this time she had grazed over to the center of the room. Her voice rumbled with displeasure. "I've sent my swiftest warriors to track you. I wanted to find out what was so urgent to be out alone in the streets where the Outsiders lie. You were following a little girl. Why?"

"I feel a connection with her, Foxstar. I sense that there something more than meets the eye. It wasn't just because of her dragon emblem hanging on that string," he uttered.

"What emblem?" the apparent leader ducked her way around the raven-haired girl. Her eyes fell upon the tiny stone statue dangling around her neck. She snatched the string, scraping her finger nails on the girl's neck as she did. She tore the necklace off and examined the hand crafted, stone dragon. "Great StarClan!"

"What is it, my lady?"Ravenshade asked impulsively.

"This can't be, this can't be,"Foxstar stammered. "In all my life, I've never thought this would come."

"What?" was the only thing that Rafaela could find herself to say. Her voice croaked.

Still standing next to her, Foxstar paced around the room, mumbling soft words underneath her breath. She ceased in front of the girl, once more. Her amber eyes gazed deep into Rafaela's. "You are the chosen one."

"The…what?" Rafaela choked. "No, no. This has got to be a joke. I mean, I know I have this dragon thingy, but that doesn't mean I'm some sort of god or anything. I'm not strong nor am I a hero."

"No, no,"Foxstar assured her. "You're not a hero. No, StarClan never declared any sort of hero to come. Just a person from the outside. You. You are of great importance. Whether you like it or not. Now," she made her way back to her desk. She snatched up some papers and tramped back with great ease. "What is your name?"

"Yes, yes. Her name. What is it?" the ginger pressed. "What? Are you kidding?"

"Rafalea, um, ma'am," she replied meekly.

"Rafaela, would you like to join us?"

Rafaela glanced back at Blackfang. He exchanged glances with her and nodded, as if saying: _Go on. We went through this before. Go ahead._

"Yes," she replied, finally. "I would love to join your Clan."

"Rafaela, by joining the Clan, you'll not be the girl you once were. Are you sure you want to give up your life as an Outsider?"

Foxstar's voice was ere. It didn't really help that both Ravenshade and Blackfang were watching with sheer content. She swallowed hard, trying not to show her insecurity.

"I'm sure, ma'am," was her simple reply.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I shall give you your new name."

"Wait? What?" the raven-haired girl sputtered. "Why do I need a new name?"

"It is tradition,"Ravenshade sighed. "We're all given names that represent our personality. For example, I've been named Raven for my black hair."

"And the suffix 'shade' is for her uncanny personality," Blackfang added with a mallow tone.

"Shut up!" the long-haired woman whined.

The ginger leader ignored them and continued her ritual. "Rafaela, you will be known as Scorchpath. StarClan will guide you along your journey in becoming a full warrior of RedClan."

She turned to Blackfang and continued, "Blackfang, since you found this little – er – I mean, our newest member, you will mentor her in the ways of our warrior ancestors. May StarClan guide you as you pass on your skills as a strong, loyal warrior."

"I'm most honored to do so, Foxstar," he replied with a low bow. "I will do my best to train her to the best of my ability."

"I expect nothing less, Blackfang," the older woman replied with her back turned to him. "We need to have a Clan meeting. Great StarClan. This'll be interesting."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I had help with the names. Names were donated by GimmerIcewood, xFallenskyx, Wolfgrowl, xXSilvershadeXx,XxSmallstepxX, Halliova, and Coalstorm of WindClan. Also, the story takes place in the real world and would be as if they were humans. The gangs are what the Outsiders (People outside the clans) call the two Clans. The clan names are normal until you get to the kits and apprentices. The apprentices have -path instead of -paw, and the kits have -tot instead of -kit.**

**Please, review and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Things can change a person's perspective, Rafaela - er - Scorchpath thought as her eyes followed Ravenshade and Foxstar as they moved around the tight quarters with quick strides like two cheetahs blazing through the grass. The aspiration of having her name changed seemed fairly rapid and over all, very strange. There was no reason that she needed a name change; she was fine with her name being Rafaela Ortega. Blackfang grumbled as he was eventually dragged into the drama of preparing for the so called "Clan Meeting".

It wasn't really what she had expected. Blackfang and Ravenshade rummaged through the debris like wild savages. They tossed garbage and wooden boards off to the side, creating even more of a mess in the room. Finally, Blackfang ceased his search.

"Ah, ha!" he exclaimed. "I found it!"

Ravenshade halted abruptly and spun around, nearly dropping a thick piece of shrapnel. Foxstar trotted over to him and retrieved what had appeared to be a megaphone…or something like it, anyway. Using her free hand, the ginger beckoned Scorchpath to her side. Scorchpath gazed at what was left of the screen door. While her attention was distracted, Foxstar rushed outside with the megaphone.

"Let all who are old enough to catch their prey come meet under the Balcony for a Clan Meeting!" her voice became crackly and full of stereo buzzes like those from a radio talk show. The leader's voice wasn't too different than those obvious things pointed out. She sounded quite calm and full of energy as if she had been hiding her "kid in the candy shop" voice for a long time, fearing that she wouldn't be taken seriously. It was sort of a mixture of a hyped up mood in a calm tone.

Well, there was no need to fear. She was taken seriously. Very seriously for that matter. It didn't take long for shapes of human faces to appear from the darker corners and windows of the other rundown buildings. Ravenshade had appeared next to the ginger leader. As if by some sort of unexplained force, they began to slink down into the street below.

Only a few people were left peering out the windows. The chubby faces of small children could be solidly identified. Next to them were two women who had seemed to be the same age as Racenshade. Their facial expressions were gawking at them, as if to say:_ If you try to do anything to my kids, I'll kill you with one fatal blow._

"Warriors, elders, apprentices, queens, and kits of RedClan," she began when most of the murmurs and grumbles of distaste had died down. It seemed quite obvious that these people hated to be interrupted from their daily activities. "I have a few announcements to share with you."

"Well of course you do! Why else did you call us here? You obviously have feelings for Blackfang. We've still haven't found him. You want to know if any of the patrols found him ever since the patrol found BlueClan on our territory." a young male – maybe adolescent – voice retorted from the middle of the crowd of people. His tone was like the blade of a knife stabbing the words of the leader with flaming rage. "That's why we're here! Isn't it?"

"Well," Foxstar replied, trying to pick her words wisely. "Yes, I am concerned with our warriors, but my feelings for Blackfang are private. You should know better than that, Cloudblaze."

"Oh, come on!" the pale teenager growled. "You try to cover up your love for Blackfang, but you can't fool us! Everyone knows that you love him deeply. Why else would you send him on so many missions?"

"I've had about enough of you," the ginger leader snapped. "Icebird, Amberfrost, take him back to the warriors den so then he can cool off."

Two women turned to the one called "Cloudblaze" and gripped his arms tight enough for some pink blushes to form a ring around where their hands were latched on. As they turned away, the light blonde-haired teen flashed a cold glare back at Scorchpath, as if to say: _Good luck, you little runt._

It seemed a little strange that the young male, would glare at her. He didn't even know her and he was giving her cold looks! Maybe it was meant for Foxstar or something. Who knew?

Scorchpath directed her attention at the ginger leader, who was now chatting with Ravenshade. Blackfang had appeared next to them and the entire crowd swarmed with light whispers and gestures. Finally, the ginger leader glared daggers at them.

"Quiet!" she roared.

Everything went still. The only sound present was the sound of wind chimes dancing through the air like little ballerinas spiraling with every ding and clang of metal. The raven-haired girl's heart began to race. Was it even possible for the people in the front row to hear her heart beating? If not them, Blackfang, Foxstar, and Ravenshade would have no problem hearing the thundering drumming inside her chest. They'd know her fear. She'd be dragged back to that wretched orphanage. Back to what she couldn't call her home. No. She had to be brave. She had to stand up and take all the humiliation that they had in store for her. Or at least it felt like humiliation.

The last time she had to stand up in front of people was when she presented her oral report on barn owls. The thought of her fourth grade report sent chills down her spine. _I'm better than this._ The black-haired girl reminded herself. There must be some way that she could keep from speaking in front of such a crowd as this. She hoped that she wouldn't have to make a speech or anything like that. It would have been fourth grade all over again, if she did. Tripping over her own words like one would trip over something as small as a crack in a road or a shoelace.

"Yes, Blackfang is back," Foxstar began. "I've been informed that he was split off from the rest of his squad. His patrol squad couldn't find him so they set off back to camp, since it was getting late."

Murmurs rumbled from the crowd as if thunder was among them and something as going to strike any minute. Nothing happened.

"I can tell them my story, ma'am," Blackfang grunted. "I'm not stupid."

Unwillingly, Foxstar stretched out her arm and handed him the megaphone with a look of shame on her face as if she was giving her pride away. Blackfang retrieved it with ease and brought it up to his face with confidence.

"Ladies and gentlemen of RedClan," he announced with a shockingly, bright and relaxed tone. "You remember when we announced the prophecy of the person to rule the cities with us?"

The crowd mumbled small words of agreement.

"Well," he cut them off. "I've found her."

A few of the older men and women gasped. There were a few murmurs of "Who is it?" and "Is it me?" The confusion and peeked interests rippled through the Clan like a wave over a sandy shore, washing over their minds with ease.

"Who is it, you ask?" Blackfang continued. "Why, it's our newest member! Please meet Scorchpath."

Within an instant, the curious murmurs transformed into snarls and snaps of angry jaws. Their eyes flashed with fury as they raved on about how Outsiders were prohibited. Ravenshade staggered back at the realization of how bad things were going with the introduction.

"How dare you bring in an Outsider into our midst!" one of the senior warriors roared. "This low life, city scum," the warrior pointed his finger directly at Scorchpath, which made her feel even more intimidated. "Is in no condition to serve such a complex and intricate organization!"

"What's so complex and intricate about a bunch of city thugs that live off of city waste?" Scorchpath found herself arguing.

"Typical city scum logic" the warrior growled and began to unsheathe his knife.

"Woah!" Foxstar exclaimed as she drew back a bit. "Sheathe your knife, young man!"

"Says who?" the warrior sneered.

"You're not the leader of this Clan. I am. I've already allowed this Outsider to join."

"On what grounds?"

"For the fact that she wears the sacred emblem StarClan foretold the chosen one would wear," Ravenshade replied.

Not saying anything, the man glared daggers at the two authority figures. He probably wanted to continue fighting, but figured that it wouldn't do any good. As far as the black-haired girl figured: there was no way to win an argument with the leader, because the leader's word is law. She gave a light sigh as she felt relief flowing through her veins. They didn't have to accept her, for all she cared. Just as long as she has some place where she belongs.

"Rafaela," the leader's voice was calmer than her argument with the senior warrior. I was kind of nice to hear her regular name again. It was sort of soothing like a good old back message on a stressed out back. "From this moment forward, you'll be known as Scorchpath. May StarClan light your path in becoming a full-fledged RedClan Warrior."

She acknowledged her with a slight nod of the head.

"Blackfang," the black-haired man broadened his shoulders with pride at the sound of his own name. "It has been a while since you've taken on an apprentice. You will mentor Scorchpath. May StarClan guide you as you teach this youngster the ways of our kin and your knowledge of hunting and fighting, so that she may serve us well in all that she does."

"Thank you," he murmured. He placed a large hand upon her shoulder griping it tightly. Pain streaked through her body, but she forced herself to keep it hidden.

"Please," Foxstar gestured. "Give our newest apprentice a warm, RedClan welcome."

The crowd was hesitant. A few long seconds passed when someone finally started a slow applaud. The slight applaud transformed into a roar of emotionless clapping. Most of them not smiling or giving any sense that she was welcomed at all.

_They'll come around, _she thought to herself. _I hope._

Foxstar adjourned the meeting and the crowd dispersed. Ravenshade and Blackfang gave Scorchpath a word of caution. Mostly, it was about how she would have to settle herself down in the apprentice's den. Naturally, she argued, saying that she didn't know where it was.

"You'll figure it out," was what they said in reply.

How in the world was she going to be able to do that? It's not like she could go up to a random person and ask: "Hey, do you know where the apprentice's den is?" Also, the whole "den" idea was quite strange. These seemed more like rotting apartment buildings, not "dens" as they called them. Scorchpath didn't really want to intervene since they all seemed like they would kill her if she even spoke a word about how odd it was to call apartment rooms, "dens."

"Well, Miss_ Scorchpath_," she muttered to herself. "I guess we're going to have to. Don't want to, but it's the only way I'll ever get around here."

Just as she thought, most of the warrior, elders, and queens' reactions were all short tempered and cruel. Most of them slammed doors and shut their tattered curtains. A few times, she was literally kicked out and nearly flew over the railing of the emergency stair case. Sheesh! They were indigent over one minuscule thing. Man, Cloudblaze and that one old warrior really riled them up.

As she got up and dusted herself off, out of the corner of her eye she saw a small shadow. _Wha - what was that? _Scorchblaze slowly made her way over to the shadow, creeping down the creaky steps.

"So," a sudden voice spoke. She jumped back with surprise, when she reached the bottom. "I hear you need help finding the apprentice's den." The owner of the voice appeared. She took note as the owner had shown to be a young teenage boy, no older than fourteen. He had dark brown hair that went down to his ears, dark, blue jeans, a gray jacket that covered a light, cream t-shirt, and black ball cap. Underneath the bill of his cap were a pair of dim blue eyes. Perched on top the bill were a set of dark colored sunglasses.

"I - I'm sorry," the boy stammered as he gazed at Scorchpath in awe. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No," the raven-haired girl replied. "No. You didn't."

"Don't mind Cloudblaze and Bluestrike, they can be…" the boy paused, picking his words carefully. "…A bit aggressive to strangers, especially, Cloudblaze. He's passionate about keeping the Clan blood pure."

"Right…" Scorchpath muttered.

"How silly of me. I didn't introduce myself," the young teen smiled amusingly. "I'm Rainpath."

"So, anyway," the black-haired girl replied. "About where the apprentice's den is?"

"Oh, right! Follow me."

As he spoke, Rainpath lead her across the street. Weaving through the maze of boxes and other debris, they made their way to a ladder, across from the Balcony. They climbed up a few flights and entered a dim lit room. The room reminded Scorchpath of the leader's den, but was meant for more than one person. Multiple cots were scattered across the room and overflowed into a separate room to their left.

"Oi, Rainpath," a female's voice called into the room after them. "Ravenshade wants us to go onto a raid."

The new apprentice cocked her head to the side and stared blankly at the woman's face.

"You may be wondering who that is, huh?"

_Oh my! How in the world did you figure that one out Sherlock? I mean, it wasn't really that obvious from the start! _The girl thought sarcastically to herself.

"It's my mentor, Poppybrook," He replied happily, and then whipped around to give a response to his mentor. "Alright!"

Rainpath knitted his eyebrows as he realized his new friend's confusion. "You think that Scorchpath and her mentor, Blackfang can come along too?" he asked rapidly, as if he were trying to blow it out of the way before would forget. "I mean, they're bound to go sometime. And besides! It'll be easier than telling her exactly what a raid is."

"I suppose," Poppybrook heaved a deep sigh. Rainpath cheered, his face full of joy. If his hat wasn't in the way, that is. "Though, it'll be up to Blackfang, if she can."

"I understand, completely!" his voice suddenly turned to a more serious tone. "When are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow night."

When the woman vanished, Rainpath clutched her arm. "Come on! I'll show you where we sleep. Come on!"

He made a mad dash across the room, leaving Scorchpath having to make way through the pitiful mess. Three cots were lined up in the spare room. All of them were basically the same: dark green mat on top of plastic guard rails with white sheets and musty pillows scattered without a care on the beds.

"Aw! She isn't here," the brown-haired boy cussed silently enough so that she couldn't hear. "Oh, well. You'll meet her soon, enough."

"So, tell me," Scorchpath smoothly spoke as she sat down on one of the cots. "Why did Cloudblaze shoot me cold looks?"

"He wasn't give you the cold looks," the boy replied, pacing around the room as if he couldn't keep still while talking. "He was giving them to Foxstar, the leader."

"Why? Do you know?"

"I've heard rumors," he gave a slight pause. Probabably to give some sort of effect to his story. "It's a really long story, but the synopsis is that Foxstar and Raggedblade mated. They had a kid, but Foxstar abandoned Raggedblade and their baby. Cloudblaze was their baby, you see, and neither one of them told him that Foxstar was his real mother. He thought that Blossomleaf was his mother since she was the one to take of him. Anyway, years past, eventually both Raggedblade and Blossomleaf died while on a patrol. Eventually, Cloudblaze figured it out and has been cold to her ever since. No one knows exactly how he figured it out; he just did.

"Oh," the girl sounded uninterested in the matter anymore. Quickly she decided to change subjects. "Why do you call these rooms, _dens_?"

"Not exactly sure," Rainpath simply replied. He strolled over to a distant window that looked onto their camp and shut the curtains. "Tradition, I guess."

He finally returned to the cots.

"You better get some sleep. You're going to need it when we get your identification tags. Not to mention, when we do our raid."

_A raid? Things can't possibly get any stranger,_ she thought as slowly drifted off to sleep on the cot that she was sitting on.


End file.
